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lunaecalamitas2024-06-13 05:00 pm
promittere) wrote in lunaecalamitas2024-06-13 05:00 pm
let the magic take control, it's there wherever you go
CADENZA DI FIRST QUARTER
On this bright and sunny morning, Sage Tatara and Mentor G'raha call a meeting. It's mandatory.
Once every wizard is gathered in the lounge, Tatara settles into one of the plush armchairs, clearly too big for him, but absent is any of his silly expressions that might make light of the difference in size here. Instead, with a serious hue in his coral eyes and neatly pressed lilac dress shirt, he looks like he means business.
"Now that the Western wizards are back, we need to share what we've learned with each other. I know some of you have been sharing information privately amongst yourselves, but I think it's time we put all the pieces we have together.
"Everyone encountered a moon stone on their missions, and I think the general consensus is that neutralizing these stones brings the old wizards back physically, somehow. But we haven't received any reports of any of them waking up yet."
That isn't to mention the sage, who still remains missing...ostensibly. They'll get to that in a second.
"If there's anything else you've learned that you think might be related to these things, or to our situation specifically, then speak up now."
When the conversation dies down, Tatara raises his hand to get his attention back on him and G'raha again.
"For the second order of business, I have good news and bad news."
His tone and expression are lighter this time.
"The good news is that we've found a ritual that can send everyone back. There are details we can work out in the meanwhile, especially if you've decided not to go back to your home world, but for now, we need to talk about the ritual itself.
"In order for the ritual to work, we will need rare materials from all over the world. I'll be posting the materials on the job board so you know where to look."
G'raha adds, "We'll need these materials by next week, before the full moon. There's a reason for that, but we'll touch on that in a moment."
Tatara glances at him and nods.
"The ritual is far too powerful for any of us to perform, so we'll have to wait until the old wizards wake up. But...I have a feeling we might be able to do something about that."
When Tatara stands, G'raha follows suit.
"There's one last thing I need to show you."
With a silent gesture, Tatara makes for the door of the lounge and expects everyone to follow. Yes, everyone.
Sage and mentor then lead everyone down the winding corridors of the manor, past an indiscreet door into a wing of the building that has remained relatively untouched. The lights here are off, but the chandeliers and sconces quietly flick on as they make their way down the dust-laden corridors.
Soon, all will notice that the halls they walk through are a mirror image of the residential section of the manor, except it seems no one has lived here for quite a while.
You're led up the stairs, where Tatara and G'raha stop before a door that is a mirror location to Tatara's room on the second floor. A faint energy pulses from inside, one belonging to a person unfamiliar to all.
After an exchanged glance, Tatara pushes open the door and G'raha steps inside. He gestures to the sight at the center of the room: there, on his knees, is a young man. His face is frozen, twisted in panic—in fact, all of him is frozen, and his image practically see-through, just scarcely flickering on the razor-thin edge of existence. He holds his fist high above his head, as though clinging, with dear life, to five faint ethereal threads—yellow, purple, blue, pink, and green—that float in the air above his head. The threads are just as faint as he is, fading before they reach the walls.
"This is the previous sage," Tatara says. "He appeared here a little before the Western wizards returned from their mission. I'm guessing whatever they did to the last moon fragment is related."
G'raha nods. "The sage's soul seems incomplete. Putting him back together may be the key to waking him, and the rest of the wizards, up. However—" he pauses, reaching to gently run a finger over the purple thread. It flickers faintly. "The energy in these threads is too faint to see where they lead. They do seem to grow in strength as we get closer to the full moon, though. It's likely we'll see what lies at the end of them when the time comes, next week."
"Next week," Tatara repeats. G'raha steps out of the room, and Tatara closes the door behind him. "We'll wake him up next week.
"But before that, we have materials to collect."
Once every wizard is gathered in the lounge, Tatara settles into one of the plush armchairs, clearly too big for him, but absent is any of his silly expressions that might make light of the difference in size here. Instead, with a serious hue in his coral eyes and neatly pressed lilac dress shirt, he looks like he means business.
"Now that the Western wizards are back, we need to share what we've learned with each other. I know some of you have been sharing information privately amongst yourselves, but I think it's time we put all the pieces we have together.
"Everyone encountered a moon stone on their missions, and I think the general consensus is that neutralizing these stones brings the old wizards back physically, somehow. But we haven't received any reports of any of them waking up yet."
That isn't to mention the sage, who still remains missing...ostensibly. They'll get to that in a second.
"If there's anything else you've learned that you think might be related to these things, or to our situation specifically, then speak up now."
For a summary of everything discussed in the meeting, please see this comment. Thank you Mauyn!
When the conversation dies down, Tatara raises his hand to get his attention back on him and G'raha again.
"For the second order of business, I have good news and bad news."
His tone and expression are lighter this time.
"The good news is that we've found a ritual that can send everyone back. There are details we can work out in the meanwhile, especially if you've decided not to go back to your home world, but for now, we need to talk about the ritual itself.
"In order for the ritual to work, we will need rare materials from all over the world. I'll be posting the materials on the job board so you know where to look."
G'raha adds, "We'll need these materials by next week, before the full moon. There's a reason for that, but we'll touch on that in a moment."
Tatara glances at him and nods.
"The ritual is far too powerful for any of us to perform, so we'll have to wait until the old wizards wake up. But...I have a feeling we might be able to do something about that."
When Tatara stands, G'raha follows suit.
"There's one last thing I need to show you."
With a silent gesture, Tatara makes for the door of the lounge and expects everyone to follow. Yes, everyone.
Sage and mentor then lead everyone down the winding corridors of the manor, past an indiscreet door into a wing of the building that has remained relatively untouched. The lights here are off, but the chandeliers and sconces quietly flick on as they make their way down the dust-laden corridors.
Soon, all will notice that the halls they walk through are a mirror image of the residential section of the manor, except it seems no one has lived here for quite a while.
You're led up the stairs, where Tatara and G'raha stop before a door that is a mirror location to Tatara's room on the second floor. A faint energy pulses from inside, one belonging to a person unfamiliar to all.
After an exchanged glance, Tatara pushes open the door and G'raha steps inside. He gestures to the sight at the center of the room: there, on his knees, is a young man. His face is frozen, twisted in panic—in fact, all of him is frozen, and his image practically see-through, just scarcely flickering on the razor-thin edge of existence. He holds his fist high above his head, as though clinging, with dear life, to five faint ethereal threads—yellow, purple, blue, pink, and green—that float in the air above his head. The threads are just as faint as he is, fading before they reach the walls.
"This is the previous sage," Tatara says. "He appeared here a little before the Western wizards returned from their mission. I'm guessing whatever they did to the last moon fragment is related."
G'raha nods. "The sage's soul seems incomplete. Putting him back together may be the key to waking him, and the rest of the wizards, up. However—" he pauses, reaching to gently run a finger over the purple thread. It flickers faintly. "The energy in these threads is too faint to see where they lead. They do seem to grow in strength as we get closer to the full moon, though. It's likely we'll see what lies at the end of them when the time comes, next week."
"Next week," Tatara repeats. G'raha steps out of the room, and Tatara closes the door behind him. "We'll wake him up next week.
"But before that, we have materials to collect."
JOB BOARD
An important note for these tasks is that they are time sensitive. At least one completed thread of each material must be submitted before 11:59 AM EDT, June 22 for the gathering of the materials to be considered successful. Now's the time to coordinate and work together.
Water from the Lost Oasis. Mesa was once a great city of commerce in the southern part of the Central country...the part of the country that is now a vast desert. The city was once lost to the sands, and though it is said to have recently emerged from its sandy grave, it is still rather difficult to find in the desert. It is very easy to get lost, even on broom, so be careful.
Either way, your task is to collect a bottle-ful of water from this barren oasis. Your only choices may be to commune with the spirits to have them to show you a phantasm of what the bustling city was like in its heyday, before it was destroyed, or to brute force dig your way to the ground water. Why here, when there are other oases in the desert? This is an ancient place of power, and the land is special.
The Central spirits here are very old and very picky—Northern wizards beware, as your presence may not be entirely welcome. Acting out may cause the spirits to lash out and cause sandstorms.
Either way, your task is to collect a bottle-ful of water from this barren oasis. Your only choices may be to commune with the spirits to have them to show you a phantasm of what the bustling city was like in its heyday, before it was destroyed, or to brute force dig your way to the ground water. Why here, when there are other oases in the desert? This is an ancient place of power, and the land is special.
The Central spirits here are very old and very picky—Northern wizards beware, as your presence may not be entirely welcome. Acting out may cause the spirits to lash out and cause sandstorms.
The Frozen Oz Root. Named after the world's most powerful wizard, the Oz flower is a brilliant crimson and deathly poisonous. It grows in the vast snowy plains of the North, but it is said to be exceedingly rare, despite how the color of the flower stands out so starkly against the white of the snow. Finding it will not be easy and you will need sharp, tireless eyes.
Despite how beautiful the flower is, that is not what we need. All of the flower's poison is housed in its roots, and we need the poison. However, the most important thing is that the roots remain frozen. Do not let it thaw. Once it thaws, the poison loses the quality we need for the ritual.
Despite how beautiful the flower is, that is not what we need. All of the flower's poison is housed in its roots, and we need the poison. However, the most important thing is that the roots remain frozen. Do not let it thaw. Once it thaws, the poison loses the quality we need for the ritual.
A Storm in a Bottle. It's the fickle quality of the spirits in the Valley of Storms that cause the eponymous storms. They're shy and sensitive, a lot like the Eastern wizards themselves, and don't require a lot of prodding to elicit any sort of reaction from them. Your job is to agitate the spirits in the valley just enough to cause a storm, and to catch that storm, lightning and thunder and rain and all, in a bottle for use in the ritual. Western wizards in particular will have an easy time stressing them out, but be careful not to push the sensitive spirits too far—the valley is also known as the Valley of the Lost for a reason (don't get trapped, please come home!).
In contrast, if you accidentally make the spirits happy, they might take the form of cats instead... Which is nice, but the manor isn't exactly aching for more cats. Just don't get too distracted playing with them if this happens, okay?
In contrast, if you accidentally make the spirits happy, they might take the form of cats instead... Which is nice, but the manor isn't exactly aching for more cats. Just don't get too distracted playing with them if this happens, okay?
Blood of the Last Monster. The Western military and word on the street will tell you that all of the magical monsters in the West have been slain, their mana stones harvested. But is that true, when there has been no word of the death of the mythical tarasque? The legend of the tarasque tells of a large, ancient beast with six bear paws for legs and a massive turtle shell on its back, who slumbers in the depths of a remote ravine among the mountains on the Western Country's northern border. You are to collect a vial of this ancient creature's blood. Nothing more, nothing less.
Be careful not to wake it, and be careful not to kill it. If awakened, there's no telling if anyone would be able to stop a creature of that size and caliber. And if killed, its mana stones would attract all the wrong kind of attention. Besides, doesn't the West still deserve to keep some of its native fauna, magical or otherwise?
Be careful not to wake it, and be careful not to kill it. If awakened, there's no telling if anyone would be able to stop a creature of that size and caliber. And if killed, its mana stones would attract all the wrong kind of attention. Besides, doesn't the West still deserve to keep some of its native fauna, magical or otherwise?
Pestilence Frog Mucus. Though once a plague-ridden bog, the Swamp of Pestilence is now home to a thriving, diverse, and healthy ecosystem. It's now also home to a very rare type of frog, its stunning green, yellow, and blue stripes eye-catching and attractive. However, this frog only emerges from the depths of the bog on a clear twilight after a day of rain in the rainy season...except the Southern rainy season isn't for another few months yet. You don't exactly have the time to wait until then, do you? You'll have to figure out a way to trick the frog into thinking it's the rainy season to lure it out, or dig it out by force... Either way, you'll need at least a vial's worth of this frog's mucus. Make sure the swamp water (or rain water, for that matter) doesn't contaminate it.
OOC NOTES
🌙 Welcome to your final final mingle! It's time to share info and get down to business.
🌙 How do you feel about the bonds you've forged thus far? Was it all worth it?
🌙 Pair guesses are now closed! Thank you and congratulations to all who found their pair!
🌙 A reminder that rewards close at 11:59 PM EDT, June 19, and that includes mission rewards. If you have not submitted rewards for your mission participation yet, then now's your last chance!
🌙 Speaking of time limits, if you missed it above, all materials must be submitted before the finale for the gathering to be considered a success. Plan your time and your threads wisely.
🌙 Your OOC plotting post is here. Please note that this plotting post doubles as the sign-up for the finale and final encounter. Read it over carefully and fill out the form if you'd like todieplay.
🌙 Speaking of, what do you think is happening next week...?
no subject
[ But that is unfortunate; at least the implications are...
Well, at least Robin has made positive ties here for certain (him included, maybe.) He doesn't have any intentions of insinuating anything about such matters to his face, but he feels that the idea isn't impossible. ]
I wouldn't be surprised. It is a difficult medium to use at all; wielding such power would be easier if one had something under an Aeon's power or a Stellaron, but on one's own, it is certainly difficult to manage.
Though, all the same, you seem to have experience with it...
[ He blinks at the question, however, and tilts his head, shaking his head. ]
No. That said, why do you ask? Has Ahito done something?
no subject
I am one of two beings considered as deities, in the realm I hail from— we're both capable of it, both for ourselves and others. [ it's not boasting, just factual. ] You haven't yet seen even a fraction of my strength, whether here or in that forest.
As for the matter of Ahito... [ mentally closes eyes. this is the worst way to tell someone to drop something because it never works, but— ] Never you mind it then, in that case. He hasn't done anything. I'd merely thought he'd said something to you, but it's of little import.
no subject
Deities, hm? I never thought I would meet another who would essentially possess an Aeon's power under normal circumstances.
[ Which is interesting, in so many ways. It makes him consider the words Robin spoke of, of history and its cycle from a different perspective, yet not all that much because he is certain those experiences in the memory had a hand in it. Rather than it being only a point of view he had obtained because of him being considered a 'deity', though he doesn't doubt it helped. ]
It isn't? ...Robin, it doesn't quite sound like something of little import if you had thought I was put up to something.
What was it?
[ He's going to be bothered if he doesn't ask about it, actually. ]
no subject
[ small universe. though perhaps the ritual used to summon them predisposed itself towards certain types...? no, not enough correlation to even theorize on that. they've (former) normies in their midst, after all. ]
Anyway, I can only assume you did hear me announce myself earlier, considering you only questioned me about it immediately. Did you think me proclaiming myself as the End was simply a sense of dramatics?
To that end ... There is a certain role I play, a certain fate I herald. Ahito simply took exception to some of the more likely ways it would play out when I explained to that to him.
no subject
There are those who can be granted power from an Aeon, and there is the Aeon to which all those who follow on the Xianzhou Alliance, the Reignbow Arbiter — Lan. Though it can be said that Lan does not quite make it a habit of speaking amongst mortals...well, I never claimed to be mortal, either.
[ It is just being "immortal" as a Xianzhou Native means likely losing one's mind at some point so most don't make it beyond a certain point.
To that end, Jing Yuan as the Arbiter-General of the Luofu received a "gift" from the Aeon himself, so we can presume there was probably some kind of dialogue, and so is the implication by his wording here. ]
Hm. Well, I certainly could not presume of anything anyone just yet, though it is good to hear you elaborate on the matter some more.
Not that I am certain on how exactly you would play out as 'the End', in particular. Though, I have to wonder, how would you conduct this role of yours, in order to adhere to this fate? Such that it would cause Ahito to take exception?
no subject
[ that of someone with more years on them than their appearance would imply. will he elaborate? no. it's simply something you learn to recognize. and anyway, wow, twinsies (sort of). wanna hear all about Degeneration, jing yuan?
but ugh. he's not getting out of this one at this point, and he knows it. he can't even leave like he did in the forest of dreams, considering the spirits' curse and the unnatural fog lingering around them... ]
Why don't I tell you a story, hm? [ if he cannot play it off, then he'll do as he's done before and couch it in dramatics, in a tale far removed from here. he's already told it once. why not just once more before the end. ] Long ago, a creature emerged from the desert. It was sought out by people who had nowhere else to turn, no one else to turn to, and of it they begged succor, of it they begged protection. They made that creature, to which death clung like a shroud, their patron guardian, and from them grew the beginnings of a nation. Six eyes which see all wrongdoing, no matter where it may have lurked; six wings to carry an inescapable justice and retribution near and far.
Eventually there grew to be those who feared that creature. After all, their nation was now thriving, was it not? They no longer suffered the ills that had plagued their forebears, the ones that had driven them to seek aid in the first place. They'd already received what they wanted. What need had they of the divine assistance their forebears sought? So the faithless joined ranks with the nation's enemies, and after a vicious struggle struck the creature down, laying it down to slumber.
But not before the creature, in snarling fury born of betrayal, swore vengeance and fire, ruin and despair upon the earth. Not before the creature vowed reprisal upon its return one day, prophesying a cleansing that would mark the end of an age.
There are those who clung onto the creature's words as lifeline. They made it their lives, their entire purposes. Indeed, in a way, it offered a malign sort of hope for those who knew none. Life and death are a cycle, after all, as many things in the world are. After the end, there must be something else, mustn't there? Blood-soaked earth sows the seeds of desperation as the downtrodden pray for deliverance, for that grim spectre to once again soar overhead and avenge them on black wings, for in the end, the greatest equalizer can only be death. Omnia mors aequat, the only means by which such an uneven scale can be balanced.
[ a black humour glittering in his red, not gold, eyes. ]
... Quite the ugly affair all around, wouldn't you say? But I am the Fell Dragon. My fate is to be the world's end, or watch it prove its desire to struggle on, ugliness and all, and strike me down. When and where I was summoned from... was not even my own time. I am quite literally a harbinger of an unwanted future come to pass, threatening the present of another past with the inevitability I represent.
[ a sigh. ]
That said. I have been given to think, as of late ... that the long shadow I cast must be dealt with. But Ahito wanted to know what 'Robin' would do, faced with this knowledge.
He was not entirely pleased with how certain I was that my younger self would, without a doubt, move to remove both of us from the board— permanently.
[ he didn't quite say it that way, of course, but given how pointedly he kept asking robin to come up with different plans and ideas— well. ]
no subject
But, twinsies indeed...Jing Yuan and Robin ought to talk about their respective versions of Degeneration, because that would make for an interesting time. Mara and then Fire Emblem's version of lethal Dragon's Delirium-
That aside, the mirth dissipates as Robin speaks his tale once more, without the bells and whistles it first contained. His golden eyes are focused on the other man, never looking away, nor making much of any expression. He hears the end, but when he looks upon those golden eyes that are now crimson, for a moment, he is reminded of a taunt. Right before he came here from a being who tried to turn him into a harbinger of destruction for their own ends; one who still exists nonetheless.
Perhaps, fate is immutable. But, one can never know if they don't try. ]
I am hardly surprised. Ahito is a child, and most young ones who become close to their elders can't stomach the idea of losing an important figure in their life.
[ Ahito, who is severely lacking in adults he can trust, Jing Yuan muses, remembering all that he has heard of his life. Which is quite A Lot, in retrospect.
That being said, he agrees with his sentiment, all the same, and it must show (or something does) when Jing Yuan fixes Robin with a wry smile. The idea of Robin succumbing to such an end pains him, and he will not deny it. ]
...I have always thought that fate was an interesting concept. Though at the same time, I never thought much of it in earnest. I always figured it was something one carved with one's hands, rather than something set in stone.
But, I do not believe it's something that necessary has to be adhered to even if there appears to be no other choice. Such as it is I suppose I am making it clear that I agree with Ahito as well; that being said...to the point that I will happily provide a perspective on other possibilities from an old man such as I.
Solutions can be achieved, though far more easily in ways that you do not necessarily anticipate on your own.
no subject
I'm hardly that important here. Besides, he will find better figures to attach himself to. He has time, given what we've all become.
[ better figures than one so sick and tired of existence, of the ills perpetuated by society, that they'd call the entire tree rotten and seek to burn it down to its roots. poisonous fruits born of a dying tree; a foregone conclusion to begin with. the efforts of a few to salvage it aren't enough. and trying to make it better, when all the most recent conflicts in the world were because of you... ]
You don't understand, do you? If you wish to fight fate, you wish to fight me. I am the future; I have already happened. There's no undoing it, only cutting it off before it comes to pass.
[ grima pauses for a moment, glancing sharply over at the other man. ]
You seem to labor under the misunderstanding that some idealized notion of 'Robin' is my true nature, and that any wrongdoing I've aided and abetted or committed wasn't of my own will. You may have some attachment to the fanciful fragments you've assembled into some semblance of the best of me; you look at that, claim it to be the good in me and try to redeem me. Ah, but I am a reflection, after all; I am what humanity made me to be. Shall I tuck away all the festering rot, sand down all the sharpest edges to appease you?
[ 'robin' was defined by love. love for those close to him, love for those who gave him a home and place to belong, love for all of the friends he'd met and bonded with. love for the people that he tried to live up to and embody in emmeryn's stead but never truly understood, because how could he, when he understood so little of people back then, understood nothing of the peace emmeryn preached?
and what and who does that make him, now that all those bonds have either withered through or been severed by force, any sympathies refused?
(what did that creature see in humanity once, long before the first exalt took up the kingsfang against it? who betrayed whom first? why does he loathe to see the evils of mankind, perpetuated against itself?
... ) ]
Chrom was my husband; I swore to support him. And yet, rather than try to uphold and carry on with his legacy, I gladly brought that world to ruin, and I intended to do the same to another. Tell me, do you still want to find those solutions you speak of?
no subject
But, is it? It's tiring, living on, making a mark anywhere when one has lived so long, and it feels hardly worth it. Existential despair is ripe and the temptation to give until it the ultimate price has been paid when one has good reasons to do so seems more than acceptable. Jing Yuan supposes he just can't accept that. ]
You say that you have already happened, and that there is no way of undoing it...yet I certainly have never spoke a word about having that undone. Though, I feel as if you could at least be able to change what that man controlled you into doing, you would with all the fiber of your being.
As for the matter of my so-called misunderstanding...I simply call it like it is. You keep speaking about idealism and appeasement, though I'd let you know it has nothing to do with either one of those things. I've seen what I have of you and I wouldn't exactly call it fanciful, either. It simply just is. After all, can you say what I have witnessed of you is a lie? Every moment I have seen, every piece certainly cannot be a lie; and you cannot say it isn't a part of you.
[ Jing Yuan believes in Robin because he has seen and felt what the man did at one point, and he is unwilling to ignore what he has witnessed otherwise. Even if Robin no longer wishes to grasp onto such feelings out in the open, he knows they exist. ]
I am not naive, nor unobservant. I will not blame you for Chrom's death, though whatever wrongful acts afterwards, I imagine you have committed through your own actions, without someone else utilizing blood magic to make it possible.
Even so, I must be honest with you — I have no desire to repeat that line of conversation. Even if the following is true...that I am sentimental, tired, and old. I have witnessed time and time again a myriad scenarios where I could not lend a hand to those I care about. The time in which I can continue to do so is very limited, considering our circumstances. You speak of the simple fact that you gladly brought a world once to ruin, will attempt to do the same, but here you will save it. I wonder, if even that does not erase your sins, if it does mean at least something. Even if you'll state perhaps that it is in order so that you make such an attempt in earnest to another. You'll state a lot more against whatever I have to argue, I can imagine. So I shall tell you this. That such as it is, as it all is, I have no intentions of leaving regrets. And so...
[ A little chuckle leaves him. But his gaze does not turn harsh nor judgmental towards the cutting look turned upon him like the sharpest blade.
(Eyes and words that appear and sound upsettingly similar to someone he knows.)
His own look in return is simply unerring in its certainty. ]
...Instead, I will simply say that I do wish to find those solutions, despite what you have said or will say. I have my reasons for doing so. No matter in what light you view them as, no matter how you may spurn me for doing so. If you see me as foolish for it, then so be it.
no subject
[ that godsdamned memory. the man walking with him will hold that as his proof, won't he? why did it have to be from so intimate a perspective? why his own, and not the one he watched his younger self go through instead?
a sigh, long and quiet. ]
I can't sway you. That much is clear. So instead, I'll only tell you this:
The man you saw that day in the forest is dead. He ceased to exist when I came to be. You can call me his ghost, if you like, but do not presume to know me because you lived a mere handful of his memories.
Since you are so desperate not to feel powerless, it seems, I would tell you to throw your lot in with the mirror of my younger self instead, as he is the one who much more closely resembles the Robin you insist on having faith in and is more likely to appreciate it on top of that... if I didn't already know you won't listen to me. You've picked quite the misguided cause to champion, general.
no subject
...He can manage enough of that with his current expression and leave it mostly at that. Though, he does let Robin say what he does, naturally, including the bit of rightful critique. But, he has no regrets.
Can't, really. ]
Mm, well, I'd like to say that it is not only because of that, but, it is what it is.
[ Jing Yuan feels there's been enough time that he can say he's a good judge of Robin's character, in some ways. Though he has a feeling even if he did, Robin might deny it some other way, and that makes him chuckle lightly and shake his head. ]
...I suppose you are also right to assume how I would react to you saying as much. I would apologize, but I will not, as it certainly would not be sincere. And I have been looking to continue to keep it that way, as I am sure you can understand that, at the least.
Whatever the case, your words are not unfamiliar to me. Other people back home have said as much to me before on certain associations, but I suppose I am just — how do they say it these days? — built different, hahaha.
no subject
[ all right, they've walked in a straight line for long enough that he's certain they should have already passed certain trail markers and landmarks they saw on the way in by now. are the spirits really going to keep this up until they've talked themselves into the grave and then some?
a brief glance at his compass. still no luck. thanks for nothing, east, he knew there was a reason he didn't like this country. ]
You seek... not redemption, per se. You are trying to find a form of absolution from the things in your past in me.
It will not be the deliverance you seek. You do know that, don't you? Not giving up on me will not change anything that has already happened. I have nothing to do with whatever history you've lived, and cannot offer you forgiveness in their place. Having faith in me— it will avail you little.
[ pause. a grand, theatric gesture as he spins on his heel to walk briefly backwards, spreading his arms with a thin skein of dark amusement as his current mask.
(in place of the weariness and faint echoes of familiarity that would colour his visage otherwise, perhaps. a stubborn, dogged insistence on caring in spite of any and everything, even when warned and advised against... it was a familiar argument, once.) ]
Unless, of course, you wish to become the first priest of the Grimleal in a sky as of yet untouched by me?
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Get it right this time, hmm? That's an interesting way to think about it; though, he doesn't think that it isn't quite like that. He hums a little as he considers his words, keeping a close eye on their surroundings as they trek towards an exit—still, in vain. ]
...If those are the summation of your thoughts, then it can't be helped. Though, I will say that it is not a matter of proving oneself, and I am not looking for something to ease anything away. Nor have I asked for or wanted it. It's doubtless such events have influenced my being, though they are not the entirety of my reasons for how I am, or what I do and say now.
Still, it is only natural that I would think of such matters and compare them, at certain points. Though, even if I have nothing to gain for placing my faith in you, I would not change nor regret my decision. I'd rather have lived being true to myself, and doing what I can for those I care about while I still can. I hope you can understand that.
[ It isn't the first time Jing Yuan's been ridiculed for it, though. Whether it's because of judgment on the person in particular, because of the look to his image, or due to others thinking lowly of him...regardless Jing Yuan is a stubborn man when it comes to this. If he cares, the universe can hate him for it; he won't budge.
That said, the question, made in jest gets something like an amused look his way, regardless. ]
Though, I should say something to you in turn...and that is to not expect my faith to become anything like the religious kind. I've never been too fond of cults—they do happen to cause quite a bit of trouble back home, you know.